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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221032">Intimate Proximity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87'>DragonGirl87</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambigous Relationship, Apparating (Harry Potter), Birthday, Dirty Talk, Draco Malfoy Is A Rotten Tease, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), Gift Exchange, M/M, Prompt Fic, Sexual Tension, Sulking Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:34:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,393</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When the rain is blowing in your face and the whole world is on your case, I could offer you a warm embrace to make you feel my love.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Intimate Proximity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by the following prompt:</p><p><b>*Birthday 38*</b><br/><i><b>Harry *arrives home*</b></i><br/><b>Everyone:</b>SURPRISE!!!<br/><b>Harry:</b> You almost gave me a heart attack!<br/><b>Draco:</b> What a kind person you are! (All) you had to say (was) <i>'thank you, Draco, for organising such an awesome party'</i> (for me)!<br/><b>Harry *in Draco's ear*:</b> I was hoping for something (a little) more intimate to celebrate my birthday...<br/><b>Draco:</b> THE PARTY IS OVER! GOODBYE, EVERYONE!</p><p>Gift Exchange with my fabulously beautiful and amazing brother, K, the one and only <b>HONEY</b> in my life!</p><p>I took the prompt and tried to run with it, then decided to put my own spin on it. I think I kept the essence of it, but also managed to work my own ideas into it. I hope you enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><hr/><p>Pushing the empty whisky tumbler towards Andrew, the bartender who’d patiently kept him company for the last hour or so, Harry wordlessly, and with half-hearted enthusiasm, motioned for a refill. He slid off his barstool and casually leaning against the bar, he watched as Andrew indulged him.</p><p>A wicked flirty grin flitted around the edges of Andrew’s mouth, and Harry straightened up a bit and gave him an uninhibited once-over. Andrew was rather handsome with short, spiky dirty-blond hair, broad shoulders, and several quite definite signs that he exercised regularly. Harry reckoned that Andrew was in his mid-to-late-twenties with magical ancestry. He certainly knew how to dress to impress. The pair of black slacks, he wore, clung to his hips quite perfectly and the crisp white button-up shirt provided excellent contrast. He’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows to ensure that they didn’t get in the way while he was making drinks.</p><p>However, what stunned Harry the most, wasn’t Andrew’s exceptionally well-proportioned body or his bartending skills but the deep purple velvet waistcoat he wore over his shirt. It was a bold and captivating choice, and for a while, it was the centre of Harry’s focus, reminding him of someone else who always chose his clothes with the intention to firmly establish himself in someone’s mind.</p><p>Harry dithered over his thoughts for several moments, but, eventually, his attention turned to the drink, Andrew was pouring for him. It was his absolute favourite; a well-aged, smoky Firewhisky. Its colour was dark, and although Firewhisky had been an acquired taste, Harry greatly anticipated the drink’s rich and luscious aromas and flavours, knowing it would have plenty of maturity to boot.</p><p><em>It’s probably more mature than I am right now</em>, Harry thought to himself.</p><p>He couldn’t entirely stop himself from wondering why he’d chosen to hide away at the bar on the very day that his entire family and friends had come together in his honour. Unable to find a suitable explanation for his asocial behaviour, he resolutely banished that particular train of thought. It was turning him sour and distracted him from his drink, and neither emotion sat well with him. He wasn’t in the mood to feel bitter about his birthday or the surprise party, his closest friends had decided to throw for him.</p><p>With his anticipation growing, Harry glanced at the open bottle of Blishen’s Fire Cinnamon-Flavoured Whisky, Andrew had yet to place back onto the shelf. That particular bottle was a highly-sought-after brand of premium Highland Scotch Firewhisky, distilled in Islay, the southernmost island of the Inner Hebrides of Scotland. It was a 1980 vintage release, and Harry silently scoffed at the irony of that.</p><p>Bottled the very year, he’d been born, and his and his parents’ destiny had been sealed.</p><p>Harry exiled that thought almost as soon as it popped into his head, and wrapping his fingers around the thick tumbler, he pulled the drink towards him. Instead of taking a sip, he aimlessly toyed with the glass. He stared down into its contents, contemplating exactly how many drinks it would take before he was too drunk to remember tonight’s party and the fact that he was another year older, one step closer to forty. He was about to lift the tumbler off the bar when the subtle yet distinctive warm notes of Italian bergamot, black pepper and patchouli, balanced with warm vanilla, amber and nutmeg, drifted over to him.</p><p>“Happy Birthday, <em>Potter</em>.”</p><p>Malfoy’s familiar drawl sent an involuntary shiver down Harry’s spine and looking up, he turned his head sideways and found himself staring into two piercing silvery-grey orbs.</p><p>Harry blinked and straightened up a little more.</p><p>“Malfoy,” he said with a curt nod, then promptly took a sip from his Firewhisky.</p><p>Instead of swallowing the drink immediately, he let it rest on his tongue for a moment to better savour the taste, then inhaled deeply, exhaled, and swallowed.</p><p>Malfoy chuckled, and Harry listened as Malfoy instructed Andrew to pour him a drink, ordering the exact same liquid refreshment, Harry was currently enjoying.</p><p>“Neat, please.”</p><p>Malfoy ensured that Andrew didn’t add any ice to his whisky, and as he accepted the glass, Harry felt him move closer. He watched, felt, and heard Malfoy take a sip from his own tumbler and tried his best to convince himself that he wasn’t at all affected by none other than Draco Malfoy occupying his personal space. Harry was tempted to tell Malfoy to give him some room to breathe, but before he could do so, Malfoy leant in further and Harry could feel Malfoy’s warm breath ghost over his stubbly cheek. He shivered and involuntarily found himself shuffling closer. Malfoy’s low chuckle thrummed in his ear, and momentarily closing his eyes, Harry took another sip of his drink.</p><p>As before, he allowed to whisky to swish around his mouth so that he could enjoy the full scope of its flavour before swallowing it down in his quest to get mind-numbingly drunk before the night was over.</p><p>“You know, Potter, instead of hanging around the bar, being mopey and feeling sorry for yourself, all you really have to do is smile and pretend that you’re enjoying these celebrations. It’s not that hard.”</p><p>Harry pressed his lips tightly together, and turning his head, he looked directly at Malfoy. He unblinkingly stared into his piercing silvery-grey eyes, then let his gaze drop down to Malfoy’s perfectly pink, and slightly parted lips. Lingering, he then parted his own lips and wetted them with the tip of his tongue. Malfoy’s sharp intake of breath sent a quiver of excitement through him, and he locked up again, boldly meeting Malfoy’s penetrative stare.</p><p>“You know, Malfoy,” he murmured, his voice lower than a whisper, and with a husky undertone that spoke volumes, “I’d hoped for something more intimate.”</p><p>Malfoy’s pupils widened a bit in surprise, but he caught himself almost instantly, and a positively devilish smirk tugged on the corners of his mouth. His lips curled upwards and unable to stop himself from reacting, Harry let his eyes drop down to Malfoy’s lips and licked his own for the second time in as many minutes, then boldly shuffled a tiny bit closer.</p><p>With their sides of their legs now firmly pressed together, Harry couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The sound reverberated in the small space between them, and Harry briefly wondered whether it was the drink that was making him this bold or whether he’d always been like this where Malfoy was concerned. Harry suspected that he had been, but it had been nearly three decades since they’d first met. What with Malfoy this close―he could feel the warmth of his skin radiate through the thin fabric of Malfoy’s tailored trouser leg―his memories were, presently, a bit fuzzy around the edges. He also wasn’t exactly inclined to put any effort towards clearing the fog in his brain but was quite happy to float inside a bubble of growing excitement and arousal.</p><p>“Tell me, Potter, when you say you’d hoped for something more intimate, exactly how intimate would you like things to be?”</p><p>Malfoy drawled his question, and the cool smoothness of it sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. He resisted the urge to straightened up, but only barely managed to hold bite back a low moan when he felt Malfoy’s long fingers on his upper leg. They rested just above his knee, and when Malfoy squeezed his thigh, and his fingertips firmly dug into his skin, Harry had to momentarily close his eyes to find the will to focus on his breathing.</p><p>He tightened his hold on his whisky tumbler and sucking in a sharp breath, he held it firmly inside his belly for several seconds, then, and only because his lungs began to protest a little, he grudgingly exhaled. Opening his eyes once more, he blinked, then brought the glass of Firewhisky up to his lips and downed the remainder of his drink. It burnt down his throat, and for a moment, his eyes threatened to water. The sensation subsided shortly after, and as the fiery drink travelled down his oesophagus and filled his stomach, he felt Malfoy’s hand slowly travel up the inside of his thigh.</p><p>“You didn’t answer my question, Potter.”</p><p>Malfoy deliberately taunted him and pressing his lips together, Harry contemplated whether he could be bothered to stop Malfoy’s wandering hand. It didn’t take him long to decide that he didn’t care enough to break the spell between him and Malfoy. Instead, he briefly locked away and signalled Andrew to pour them a refill. Andrew gave him the thumbs up, and Harry turned his attention back to Malfoy, who squeezed his upper thigh hard and with determination.</p><p>“Draco.”</p><p>Harry tried to sound warning, but he knew he’d failed the moment Malfoy’s first name had slipped past his lips. Malfoy’s leering grin turned positively devious, and he arched a curious eyebrow at Harry, who cleared his throat and swallowed.</p><p>“Yes, Harry? Anything you’d like to tell me?”</p><p>Harry curled the fingers of his left hand up tightly, clenching them into a fist, though not because he was angry, but because the sweet undertone of Malfoy’s question wreaked havoc with his emotions.</p><p>The fact that Malfoy’s hand was still steadily edging upwards and was now only inches away from his groin didn’t make things any easier. Harry could feel his blood rushing south, and he was acutely aware of the fact that his cock was gradually filling out, straining against the confines of his jeans.</p><p>He shifted from one foot to the other and frowned when Malfoy laughed, amusement sparkling in his crystal-clear silvery-grey eyes.</p><p>“Bloody tease.”</p><p>“Such eloquence, Potter.”</p><p>Harry scoffed.</p><p>“Would you like a compliment instead?” he asked, trying his hardest not to allow Malfoy to wind him up, even though he knew it was utterly and entirely useless.</p><p>The Firewhisky had long since lowered his defences. His sombre mood meant that he felt utterly disinclined when it came to the possibility of resolutely turning Malfoy’s advances down.</p><p>Malfoy smirked.</p><p>His eyes twinkled with pure mischief and a low and warm chuckle that had a certain kind of sexiness to it filled Harry’s ears, causing them to burn with heat. An almost overwhelming wave of arousal flooded through him, and swallowing hard, he fervently tried to think of something to say. Malfoy beat him to it.</p><p>“Save that until after I’ve made you scream my name while you come all over yourself, Potter, if that’s the sort of ‘<em>intimate</em>’ you’d hoped for, that is.”</p><p>Harry coughed and spluttered.</p><p>“Draco!”</p><p>He tried his hardest to sound indignant but didn’t quite manage anything more than a pathetic sort of squeak.</p><p>Malfoy laughed.</p><p>“It’s entirely your choice, Potter. If you want something more intimate that doesn’t include a crowd of two-hundred, I most definitely am your man. However, if you’d like to continue to sulk by the bar and pretend that turning thirty-eight is the end of the world, I’m certainly not going to deprive you of the opportunity to get blind drunk. Just don’t ask me to drag your sorry arse home and to bed when you can’t remember how to apparate without running the risk of splinching your crotch.”</p><p>The arrival of their drinks somewhat distracted Harry from responding immediately and grateful for the welcome interruption, Harry reached for his whisky tumbler and loosely curled his fingers around it. He lifted the glass off the bar and moved it, watching as the drink gently swirled around inside its container. As he did so, Harry considered his options: getting up close and personal with Malfoy or getting so drunk that he’d most likely spent all of tomorrow getting intimately acquainted with the toilet bowl.</p><p>Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. He brought his tumbler up to his lips, paused and tilted his head to the side so that he could look at Malfoy. Instead of using words to express himself, he simply shifted, moving properly into Malfoy’s personal space.</p><p>He leant close, pressed his lips to Malfoy’s ear, and breathed hotly.</p><p>“You know my answer, Draco,” he murmured.</p><p>Malfoy laughed.</p><p>It was a warm and bubbly sort of laugh, though it was laced with anticipation, and when Malfoy’s breath quickened in response to Harry’s silent refusal to peel himself away from Malfoy, he knew that Malfoy was just as aroused as he was.</p><p>“Then let’s get the hell out of here.”</p><p>The second Malfoy had uttered the last word, Harry felt the familiar pull of apparition tug at his navel and his world swam out of focus.</p><p>The room disappeared, and he and Malfoy vanished into thin air. They left the celebrations behind without as much as a ‘<em>goodbye</em>’.</p><p>The jump was short but long enough for Harry to feel somewhat dizzy, although he attributed that to the fact that he’d consumed several alcoholic drinks. It took a few seconds before he stopped swaying and the moment his world came back into focus, a pair of lips came crashing down on his, drawing him into a deep kiss.</p><p>Harry didn’t even try to fight it.</p><p>He let go entirely and returned the kiss with the kind of ferocity he reserved for moments like this, moments when he threw caution into the wind and gave into his desire to be free. He stumbled backwards, was vaguely aware of the fact that Draco’s arm slithered around his waist to steady him, then Draco’s tongue pushed past his lips and sought out his own, staring a fierce duel. Lost in the kiss, Harry felt the back of his knees hit the edge of a bed, and from there on he simply let himself fall, welcoming the avalanche of sensations that consumed him.</p><p>“By the time I’m done with you, birthday boy, the only two words you’ll remember are ‘<em>thank</em>’ and ‘<em>you</em>’.”</p><p>Draco’s words pierced the arousal-filled bubble in the pit of his groin, and Harry groaned. It was right around then that he decided to turn his brain off and simply feel. There was no need for anything else. Draco had it all under control, and Harry trusted him explicitly. It was time to enjoy the best kind of birthday present, the kind only Draco could give him: an incredible rush, a high powerful enough to knock him out.</p>
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